Grief
by WinchesterNimrod
Summary: When you lose someone you love, they break your heart. And no matter how long time has passed, the grief is always there. Like a stab in the chest. But the knife never comes out. Brotherly fluff. No slash.


_**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Batman'**_

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Dick was no stranger to loss. Even before he put on the mask, he lost people he loved. Significantly, two people. A mother and a father. And for days he was in denial, but once the denial faded. His heart broke all over again. For days at a time he saw them from the corner of his eye, everytime he heard a certain tune of music a flashback would attack his mind, the spaces of silence that were once willed with conversation is now a place of pain. It's hard to think you're not going insane because smells and memories tumble foolishly into his mind and overrides it with heartache. Many times Bruce, his guardian, had to get him through panic attacks.

And the mask, when the mask came on he was deceived by the hope of changing a fate that was destined for his family to come down on others.

Oh how he was deceived.

As time passed he lost people. People he came to call family. And once again as he stared at the graves of people he loved, now six feet under, he realized that he couldn't admit it to himself. He couldn't admit that he no longer needed them. How could he admit to himself every morning that he no longer needed his friends, his family? The family that he had managed to slowly grow. Just as he began to rebuild himself the walls came crashing down.

And just when he began to no longer be able to stare at himself in the mirror, a little ball or terror came unexpectedly crashing into his life.

The ball of terror was named Jason Todd.

Dick didn't know what possessed Bruce to adopt him. Maybe it was his absence? Did he notice his pain? His grief? Dick didn't dare ask, he was too scared to.

At first himself and Todd didn't really get along. Too much of opposites he supposed. But slowly, ever so gingerly, Jason wormed his way into his unraveled life. Mending and fixing his walls.

And of course, as fate had it, Jason died.

Dick still can't exactly remember how it happened, it all just happened so quickly. One moment he's at his lair, the next he's getting a phone call from Bruce. Telling him Jason was gone.

At first I was confused, did he run away? Did Bruce want him to go find him?

But then it hit him. A knowing pain stabbed him in the chest. The air was nocked so hard out of his lungs that he couldn't make a sound. He could feel something in his throat as his eyes became blurry from the hot tears in his eyes. A scream rippled through his chest but all it did was make him cough and drop the phone. The pain was too much, holding his breath Dick grabbed his stomach and tried to block out his surroundings.

And at that moment, he realized that the person who meant the most to him, was gone.

The day of the funeral Dick didn't say a word. How could he? What could he possibly say to make any of this seem alright?

Taking a deep ragged breath that somehow felt painful, he stared at himself in the mirror and straightened his tie. Despite it already being straight. Looking at himself, the suit, the cloudy sky, it hit him. Again for the thousandth time that day that it was Jason's funeral. His little brother who was savagely beaten to death by a mad man who was _still alive_.

It didn't seem fair. It _wasn't_.

Feeling his eyes blur up Dick took a solid breath and begged himself just to hold on and be strong. For Jason.

Blinking back the tears he wondered how this had happened? How had he gone from the hopeful Robin to this desperately sad Nightwing? Will he ever fine happiness?

For five years he buried himself in work. Five solid years believing his little brother to be dead.

And then he came back.

Dick wanted to shout at him, punch him, scream until the heavens above could hear him. But most of all he just wanted to know why. Why didn't he tell him he was alive this whole time? It was like a stab to the chest and he felt nothing more than wanting to crawl under a rock. He loved Jason, his little brother, his responsibility had moved on. He stole his happiness the day he died. He had hurt him worse than ever. But yet, he still loved him.

How could he not?

Staring at his little brother. The tired lines, fearful and hating eyes. Dick sighed. Feeling the grief hit him again.

But this time, unlike others, he shoved it away. Took his brothers hand and pulled him into a hug. For a paralyzed minute Jason stood frozen. Seemingly anticipating the screams and punches. So gingerly and hesitantly he reciprocated the hug.

And for the first time in a long time, Dick smiled.

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 _Please review._


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